Letters to Nowhere
by TheGryfter
Summary: A series of letters Rachel writes to Finn from New York. Post season 3 finale.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a mess. It was always going to be. I watched the finale, went outside and cried for 20 minutes, then came back in and wrote this in a fevered rush. And now I'm posting it. Raw. **

**My profile says, "I let the words burn the page, so they no longer burn my heart". **

**At no point in my life has that been less true. It's still burning. But that's Glee, huh?**

**Particulars: This is definitely spoilery, so don't read if you haven't watched 'Goodbye'. And it's angsty, and full of... well... I'll just let you read it. **

**At least we Gleeks are always there for each other. **

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**Letters to Nowhere**

**by**

**theGryfter**

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My Dearest Finn…

This place is magic.

Pure magic.

There's a little island in the centre of Times Square, its where the police station is, and I just stood there for an hour today, with the world's traffic screeching by, and just got lost in it. Totally lost. The lights, the sounds, even the smells – which were kind of funky – but it's all so New York.

A homeless man came and stood next to me. He didn't ask for anything, didn't bother me at all. I think he could tell I was lonely, and he just stood with me, watching the tourists trying to fight their way into Toys R Us. After fifteen minutes he pointed up at a billboard that was flashing messages across the square, it said: _"Welcome to New York. Don't chase your dreams. They're already here."_ Then he smiled – he was missing three teeth – and just walked away.

I love this place.

And I hate you for sending me here.

No, that's not true. I don't hate you. I could never hate you. But I want you here with me. As nice as the homeless man was – I call him Toothless Joe _(I hope I see him again)_ – he's not you.

No one can ever be you.

I miss you.

I love you.

I'm forever yours…

Rachel.

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	2. Chapter 2

Finn, my Love…

My dads are losing it.

True to form, they're being total gentleman and sharing the fold-out couch in the living room and letting me take the bedroom. The only problem is, when the bed folds out, it hits the opposite wall and doesn't go down all the way. So now they're sleeping in an _"upside-down downward-facing dog"_ position. It's a yoga thing. I'll demonstrate it for you when I see you.

So now their backs ache all the time, and the hot water in the shower lasts only two minutes, and they set a small fire trying to make herbal tea our second night, and they're arguing all the time.

But still, I'm glad they're here.

Even the sound of bickering is better than the silence.

It's never truly silent in New York. They call it the city that never sleeps for a reason. There's this constant hum 24 hours a day, but all it does is make me miss the sound of your goofy laugh, your silly questions, your breath beside me in the middle of the night.

No! I'm not going to get sappy this time. All I'll say is, have a safe journey tomorrow. Oh, and remember, in Georgia, the chicken's supposed to taste that way.

Your dad would be really proud of what you're doing. I know I am.

Yours, always…

Rachel.

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	3. Chapter 3

My Finn…

I'm nervous.

Classes start on Monday, and I'm not ready!

I have exactly one acting credit to my name, and yes we won Nationals, but Unique took home the individual prize, and I won't have the rest of the club there with me when I step out on stage the first time, so how do I know if I'm even good enough to sing in front of these people? Nevermind that the one time I sang specifically for a member of the NYADA staff I forgot the words to my favourite song!

Oh my God, WHAT IF I FORGET THE WORDS AGAIN?

Stop it! I can hear you laughing all the way from here, and it's not a joke! I'm blanking! Barbra was the one who starred in _Terms of Endearment_, right? Wait! No! That stupid movie didn't even have any music!

I can't remember any songs! None!

Except for N'Sync's _Bye Bye Bye_, and that's your fault! Why did you have to keep it as your stupid ringtone for 6 months? And now you're still laughing, and quoting the damn thing, aren't you? _"I'm doing this tonight, you're probably gonna start a fight!"_

Well, I don't find it amusing.

I need you. I need you to be here, to tell me that it's going to be okay. That I'll wow them. That they'll love me. That this is my destiny.

I know I'm needy. I admit it. Because I need you more than I ever needed anything.

Anything.

I'll stop now. This isn't helping. So, I'll just say, I love you. I always have.

Yours eternally,

Rachel.

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	4. Chapter 4

Finn, my darling,

It was… WONDERFUL!

Yes, it deserves all those exclamation marks!

Our class mentor is the Musical Director for the entire programme! His name is Byron Tyler, and he's fabulous! Kurt would love him! He's so good-looking, Santana would go straight again just to sleep with him!

Don't worry, I told him I'm married. In fact, it was the first thing I told him, before I even introduced myself. He gave that look Mr. Schu always gives me. You know the look.

He takes his classes in this gorgeous auditorium. It smells like old paint and remembered dreams.

I was huddled in my chair, absolutely terrified while he explained the history of the school, and what it felt like to get a standing ovation on a Broadway stage. Then he asked someone to volunteer to do a duet with him. Nobody moved. I crawled deeper into my seat.

Then I pictured you, and asked myself what you would tell me in that moment. After that, it was easy to lift my hand.

I trembled as I went up there. But he was sweet. He could see my nerves, and told me to relax. He'd pick a fun song, and bet me five dollars I wouldn't guess what it was.

I ran through the Broadway catalogue, but he just kept shaking his head. Then he started singing…

_You're The One That I Want!_

From Grease!

Suddenly, I wasn't at NYADA anymore. I was back at McKinley, on another stage, with you and Mercedes and Kurt and Tina and Artie, and… for the first time since you put me on that train… I felt at home.

I hope you got the care package I sent. My dad's warned me that including the thermal onesies would get you killed by your fellow recruits, but the weather gets tricky down South, and none of them would rub Vap-O-Rub on your chest if you got the sniffles the way I would.

Thank you for making me do this.

You are my hero, and you have my heart.

Rachel.

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	5. Chapter 5

Dearest Finn,

I got the best surprise today.

Kurt just showed up at my door. He had bagels and Starbucks, and didn't even bother inspecting my pokey little apartment before dragging me off to Tiffany's to recreate our breakfast scene from our first shot at Nationals.

I was almost late for class. He sat in with me the whole day. Everybody loves him and they're mortified that he's not our classmate this year. Especially when I begged Mrs. Leary to let him give them a demonstration, and he blew the doors off the place with his rendition of _Mr. Cellophane_.

He's definitely getting in next year.

He did say something that worries me, though.

Why are you being more honest in your letters to him than you are to me? Why didn't you tell me about the broken arm? Why didn't you tell me about the guys who burned your dad's photograph? Why didn't you tell me you're struggling? Why didn't you tell me you're hurting?

Everytime I get a letter from you, I go to a specific bench in Central Park to read it. They all have these little plaques on the back, with names of people who donated money to the city, and I spotted this bench my first day in New York. The name on the back is, no kidding, Ryan Finchel.

I go there, with my coffee, and I read your letters over and over, trying to memorise your handwriting and pull myself closer to you through the ink.

But now I know that you're keeping stuff from me.

Please, don't do that. You're already the Knight of my Heart, you don't have to keep protecting me. Let me be there for you. Let me be your strong shoulder, for once.

Please, Finn. I miss you so much already, I don't want to even contemplate the fact that you might be further away than I thought.

Please.

Yours, in blessed love,

Rachel.

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	6. Chapter 6

Finn, my honey,

Thank you.

Thank you for trusting me with the truth. I had no idea it was that bad.

All I want to say to you is quit. Throw in the towel. Tell that horrible master chief to suck it and just come to New York. We can be happy here, I know it.

That's what I want to do.

But I won't. Because I know you. I know the type of man you are, and you won't stop until you've redeemed your dad's legacy, and built one of your own that will stand for all time.

I know we, as a group, always tended toward the dramatic, but they didn't underplay what you did. You were the reason for all of this. Without you, there would never have been a Glee Club.

No one else could have drawn Puck and Artie into the same orbit and made them friends. No one else could have inspired Mike to show the world how he can dance. No one else could have broken Quinn's heart, but still kept her close enough to be part of something so special. No one else could have looked at Rory and seen the powerful baritenor hiding inside that cute Irish shell. No one else could have crossed state lines and brought Sam back home where he belonged.

You did all that. And you'll do this too.

You were our heart. You're still mine.

Always,

Rachel.

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	7. Chapter 7

Finn, my love,

Nothing much to report, but I promised I'd keep writing no matter what.

The city looks so different under all this snow. Its quieter, somehow. More peaceful. I went to see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller centre. Standing underneath it, looking up at all those lights that shame the stars themselves, I heard your voice so clearly… _"That is one humungous ass tree!"_

It's all so pretty and festive and gay, and it's lovely. Really.

But there's a melancholy in the air.

It's not just me. I see it in the faces of the people I pass in the street. News of the war isn't helping, of course, but I think it's more than that. Most of the people who live in New York have left their families behind to chase their dreams, and Christmas… well, if it's not about family, what is it about?

I saw Toothless Joe again. He was sleeping on the sidewalk outside the Paramount on 48th Street, just across from the theatre where Phantom of the Opera has had its home for so many years. I took him to a shelter my friend Matt runs in Alphabet City. He was ranting most of the way. Something about a missile made of pigs. But then he said he remembered me. I was the girl with the big dreams and sad eyes.

I think I'm just going to stay in tonight. A bunch of kids from school invited me to a few parties. But a night with some hot cocoa, a re-run of It's a Wonderful Life, and the photo you sent sounds like a better idea.

I keep the photo under my pillow. You look so handsome in your uniform. So… manly.

So very Finn. My Finn.

Just like I'm your…

Rachel.

Merry Christmas.

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	8. Chapter 8

My Sweet Finn,

I know its boring, but what did you expect? Being in the army isn't like the movies. It's not all action all the time. I know you got mad that time we were watching Top Gun, and I said there's no way the Navy would put a bunch of graduates like Maverick and Icicle in a fight the way they did, but, I was right.

Don't you hate how I'm always right?

Anyway, big news! I got the part! YAY!

Quinn was with me when Madame Tibedeaux called. I'm so glad I had someone to share the moment with. I'm the only freshman in the cast, and I get a song! All by my lonesome.

This is what it looks like… seeing your dreams come true before your very eyes.

There's only one moment that could possibly top this. No, two.

The moment I see you again, and the moment I become your wife.

Quinn's doing great, btw. I think journalism's the perfect fit for her. She showed me some of the papers she's done. She's got a real way with words. I bought her one of those old-timey hats, like the one the old guy wore in the original Superman movie. With the plastic peak, and the band running round the back. A real newsie's hat. We found it at this little place in Tribeca.

Oh, Finn, there's so much I want to show you! The little record store in the Village that has the entire REO collection on vinyl – on display – right out front! The guy down by the pier when you visit Liberty Island, who'll draw the most gorgeous portraits for a dollar. But he only draws couples. The tree in front of the townhouse we're going to live in one day on the Upper East Side.

I already carved Rachel+Finn 4Ever on that tree.

Come back to me soon.

Rachel.

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	9. Chapter 9

Finn,

How could you? How could you do this to me?

Everything's ruined now. Spring is here, and I took my usual route, to my usual bench in the park. I had my usual cup of coffee, and I opened the envelope like always, and… all the colour went out of the world.

It won't come back.

Not ever.

Are they supposed to do it in a letter? Isn't some padre and, like, a sergeant or something, supposed to come to the door and break the news in person? Since when do they just send a letter?

I was still sitting there, wondering who put the sun out, when Toothless Joe sat down beside me.

Only, he's not toothless anymore. Turns out, he was a successful banker or broker or something before the recession, and Matt hooked him up with a job that has dental.

I found that out later, because just like my first day in New York, he didn't say anything.

One look at my face, and he knew he didn't have to.

I just needed someone near me.

Because you…

Because…

I hate you so much right now.

I hate the flowers for dying this past winter, and the sun for leaving us at night. I hate the tears covering these pages, and I hate that I can't tell you I hate you. I hate God for giving you to me in the first place.

I hate that you're the only one who knows that Funny Girl isn't really my favourite movie, that it's actually Cutting Edge 3, Going for Gold.

I hate that your freckles used to bounce when you laughed, and that you laughed more than anyone I've ever known.

I hate that you saw the best in all of us before we knew we had a best to strive for.

I hate that I can't listen to music anymore, because every song reminds me of you.

I hate that I love you so much.

I'll keep coming back here. To this bench. Where I scratched out the name 'Ryan', and left only 'Finchel'. And maybe one day it will feel like it did. Maybe one day I'll be able to sit here, and see the mothers pushing their babies in their fancy New York strollers, the high school kids more dancing than walking with their iPods in their ears, the rollerbladers convinced they're actually exercising and not just rolling on to their next disappointment.

Maybe one day I'll see all that, instead of picturing the pure white of the blast, and feeling it's hellfire heat, and the shrapnel as it ripped through your body and tore you out of my life forever.

Maybe one day.

Your mom asked me to sing at the service. I told her I'd think about it. What would I even sing? This isn't like that weekend before my first class. This isn't a freak-out. All the songs are gone.

The music died with you.

Kurt's doing okay. Quinn less so. Santana's tried to call 10 times, and hasn't managed to get a word out yet, she was crying too much. Even Tina managed to say more. They're all going to be there. Mr. Schu needs us there, I think. He won't get through it without us.

You were like a son to him.

As for me…?

I'll go on.

For you.

Always for you.

I'll try to find the music again. I'll try to be the person you always wanted me to be. I'll try to bury the regret, and stop cursing myself for ever getting on that train. I won't let my life be a progress of shadows. You wouldn't want that.

And, most of all, I'll live the rest of my life knowing that I had love. And it was pure, and real, and sweet, and more than I could have ever hoped for. I'll know that there was someone out there who cared enough to fight the darkness in this world for me.

I'll keep your ring on a chain, next to my heart, and remember forever the words that made me say yes to you in the first place… _I just can't stop loving you._

I can't, and I won't.

You are all of me. The best of me.

Until the stars die, and we meet again…

Rachel.


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